


Revenge is Savory

by EzraTheBlue



Series: Target Practice [1]
Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Explicit Language, Humor, Prompt Fill, sexual innuendo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 04:11:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7998103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzraTheBlue/pseuds/EzraTheBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "Gojyo tightens the lid of Sanzo’s mayonnaise. Sanzo can’t open it, but won’t ask for help."</p><p>Sanzo takes one too many shots at Gojyo, but Gojyo takes revenge by sabotaging Sanzo's favorite condiment. How will Sanzo survive without his precious mayonnaise? More importantly, how long will Gojyo find his suffering funny?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revenge is Savory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [illegalitygirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/illegalitygirl/gifts).



> Written as a prompt fill for an open prompt request I did as a warm up for 7th Night 2016. This is one of my favorites, and makes me long for the days when I was funny enough to exclusively write humor/parody stories.

**Revenge is Savory**

It had seemed like a great idea at the time. Then again, lots of things seem like great ideas after as much beer as he’d had.

Like hooking up with girls who he hadn’t been attracted to before drinking the beer. In front of Hakkai. Yeah, that was a fantastic idea, so said the bottom of the bottle. Oh, and fucking with Sanzo. Then again, that was usually a good idea without alcohol. He could hardly help it – it just made him grin when his face got all red and he started sputtering a little. Pissing Sanzo off was a great choice… until it wasn’t.

“Man, fuck that guy,” Gojyo fumed as he stormed around the back of their little camp, well away from the warmth of their fire and Sanzo’s still-audible argument with Hakkai. Sanzo had emptied the chamber of his pistol, firing until all he got were pathetic little clicks, and Gojyo hadn’t done a damn thing to deserve it! He usually stopped shooting after the first three bullets! Seriously he was just giving helpful advice. He only wanted his friend and employer (or whatever Sanzo was) to enjoy their time together while they had it, and it’s not like literally anyone else thought he wasn’t sticking it to the monkey, so why the hell was he making such a big deal out of him reminding Goku to cup the balls and be generous with the lube? “Fuckin’ tightass Sanzo.”

He was pacing around the cooler, fishing through his skull and wading through a haze of liquor-induced stupidity, but he’d latched onto the thought that _this humiliation won’t stand_. Trouble was, he couldn’t think of anything he could really do to Sanzo. The most he could do was fume and pace, and dream up new insults. New insults he might try out when he was sober enough to dodge. Yeah. That was a good idea.

Even better idea? See if there’s still beer in the cooler. Postponing taking another potshot at Sanzo would likewise put off Sanzo taking another shot at him. Gojyo kicked the cooler open, and gratefully discovered half of a six-pack. He snatched the cardboard case up from the half-melted ice, grumbling as some of the frigid water dripped onto him, but was about to shut the cooler and find somewhere to drink in peace until he got bored of being alone.

Until the firelight hit the mayonnaise jar bobbing in the cooler. Oh. There was a better idea.

That was Sanzo’s mayonnaise. Goku used it on his sandwiches, Hakkai sometimes put it in sauces or potato salad, but Sanzo put it on everything. Fried eggs? Mayo drizzle. Sandwiches? Hell yeah, globs of the stuff. He dipped his sushi in it when they ate at restaurants, smuggling the bottle in his sleeve. He dipped chips in it if Gojyo left a bag of chips where he could grab it. Hot dogs from street vendors, noodles, both got a zig-zag of mayo across the top. Worst of all? In his ramen, right on top of the soggy rice crackers. The sonofabitch would probably put it in cake if Hakkai let him, or if they’d had cake lately. Bottom line: that was Sanzo’s mayonnaise, and FUCK Sanzo’s mayonnaise.

Gojyo snatched up the jar, dried it off on his shirt, then, with a nasty grin, twisted the lid. “Righty-tighty, lefty-loosey, yeah?” He cranked it hard to the right, until he heard the threading on the lid click against the grooves in the jar. “Let’s see if this doesn’t loosen your ass. Tighten your ass. Whatever the fuck your ass needs.” (Alcohol, ever eloquent.) Gojyo tossed the jar back into the cooler, satisfied with his revenge, and stumbled off to enjoy his booby prize.

This was a great idea.

* * *

Morning came, bleak and clammy. Gojyo woke up at the base of a tree with a crick in his neck and the last bottle of beer spilled onto his hand. He groaned and smeared his muddy hand off on his pants, then as he came awake and his bladder reminded him of just how much he’d had to drink last night, he staggered to his feet and stumbled into the underbrush to deal with that.

When he did drag himself back into the camp, it was to a curious scene. Goku and Hakkai were seated on the logs surrounding the low fire Hakkai had built for cooking on, plates on their knees, as Sanzo stood beside the cooler, fussing with something or other in his arms.

And swearing. Oh, that was the jar of mayonnaise, and Sanzo had it tucked in his elbow and was wrenching it as hard as his narrow hands could. Gojyo had to stifle a gleeful grin, but faked nonchalance as he joined the others at the fire. “Mornin’, everyone.” Hakkai and Goku both vacantly greeted him in reply, and he joined them in staring at Sanzo. “What’s the great and powerful Sanzo-sama up to today?”

“It seems he’s having an argument with his condiments. And please, don’t turn that into a pun about prophylactics.” Hakkai glanced to Gojyo, took in his condition, and tutted him as he set his plate aside and got to his feet to find some washing water. “Goodness, you’re filthy…”

“His mayo jar is stuck,” Goku added helpfully, before calling out with a hand cupped next to his mouth. “Hey, Sanzo, your breakfast is getting cold! You wanna hand?”

“I don’t need help to open – URGH!” Sanzo twisted the lid again, but it didn’t budge. Gojyo disguised a laugh as a cough, but sat himself down.

“He’ll get it. Let’s eat while ours is hot.”

Gojyo watched with silent, smug, stupid satisfaction as Sanzo warred with the jar until long after his breakfast went cold and Goku ate it to spare him from congealed fried eggs.

His great idea was only getting better. Egg all over Sanzo’s face, and nobody had any idea he’d done it.

* * *

The jar had not been opened by lunchtime, nor dinner, nor the next morning, despite Sanzo making an effort at every turn to get the lid loose. It was also becoming more and more difficult for Gojyo to not get caught laughing. He figured the best option was to start laughing openly.

“Holy shit, the mighty Genjo Sanzo laid low by a goddamned jar,” he cackled as Sanzo made another fierce attempt to twist the lid loose, hopping across the ground as if chasing it. Hakkai watched impassively from his spot behind their camp stove and Goku, contently warming his toes next to the coals, shrugged a little as Sanzo unleashed a colorful stream of vitriol at it.

“It might'a gotten crusty or something.” He raised his voice towards Sanzo. “Hey, you sure you don’t want a little help?”

“Perhaps,” Hakkai volunteered, though Gojyo caught his eyes flash over to him with an eerily stern expression, “You should run it under warm water to loosen it.”

Sanzo stomped both feet on the ground and whirled back to the pair of them. “It opened just fine yesterday morning. It will open, and I don’t need any of your fucking help or advice.”

“Please.” Gojyo couldn’t help himself, but maybe it was time to end this. “Maybe all it needs is one good twist from a real man, and off comes the top, just like chatting up a girl on poker night. Throw it my way, old ma–”

A bullet whizzed past Gojyo’s ear, taking a few strands of hair with it. Gojyo’s heart skipped a beat, and he was almost certain he pissed a little. “You know what, fuck you, fine.” Gojyo turned to Hakkai and pretended Sanzo wasn’t there (as best he could with the monk glowering his way) and grinned. “He’ll handle it on his own.” Hakkai hummed, but though he retained suspicion in his face, Gojyo kicked his feet out and turned to watch Sanzo continue to struggle with the jar.

It was definitely not time to end his prank. It was time to see how long it could go before it stopped being funny.

* * *

It turned out that Gojyo’s sense of humor was bad enough and Sanzo’s stubbornness glorious enough that it could stay funny for a very, very long time.

The lid remained stuck. Gojyo had figured it would. Every morning, Goku would politely offer to open the jar, and Hakkai would offer little tips on how to unstick a stuck jar lid from out of his Home & Garden magazines or wherever he learned everything about kitchen stuff, but Sanzo would swear at both of them and storm off to try and rescue his prized condiment. The jar got scratched up, the label peeled off, and the grips on the lid itself were getting worn down, but still, the lid didn’t budge.

It was even better that when they did reach a town to restock supplies, Hakkai offered to buy him a new jar. And yet:

“No. This jar is nearly full.” He kicked the cooler to indicate which he meant, as if any of them would forget that stupid jar. “We are not wasting a thin yuan on a new one when this one was barely used.”

That just saw them leaving town again in the morning with Sanzo still unable to access his precious mayonnaise, leaving a precious source in the dust.

“Boy,” Gojyo joked to Goku as they watched Sanzo sulk through a cold bowl of mayo-less noodles. “The guy’s so desperate for the white stuff, you’d think he was auditioning for a bukkake film.” He snickered at his own joke, even as Goku stared at him in confusion, then with a quizzical frown. Then, he asked, loudly and deliberately:

“Hey, Hakkai, what’s bukkake and what does it have to do with mayonnaise?”

It was legitimately impressive how quick Sanzo could whip his gun out despite chopsticks in hand and a bowl on his knees, and the two shots that creased Gojyo’s neck came just as quick. Gojyo couldn’t even be mad.

“Holy shit,” he chuckled, then pushed his hair back into place. “Man, all I’m saying is, you’re fucking desperate.”

Hakkai, who’d remained quiet in his space across the fire through the exchange up until this point, chose this point to speak up. “I could make you some mayonnaise. We have all the ingredients readily available for a basic version, it’s a very simple emulsion. It won’t have any preservatives, and I could add in some of our herbs to make it special–”

“I do not want your special mayonnaise.” Sanzo bit the last word off, and Gojyo and Goku both doubled over laughing. Hakkai put his palm over his face, and Sanzo growled, threw his bowl at Goku, and stormed off, his shoulders hunched up towards his ears. Goku grabbed the bowl before the noodles could spill and eagerly began to devour them, but Hakkai winced with concern even as Gojyo continued to laugh.

This was only getting better. How long could something this good last?

* * *

After four days, Sanzo was in mayonnaise withdrawal. He would snap at every odd noise, became visibly interested at the smell of frying fat and salt (ears perking and eyes snapping to attention, like a cat hearing the can opener), and spent mealtimes quietly growling even as he still grasped and twisted at the offending jar. His usually-sour temperament had gone straight to rot. Gojyo was also pretty sure that he hadn’t been eating, either. Not as much as he usually did, at least, since he usually pecked like a bird anyway, but he was eating less because his food would get cold and he wouldn’t be able to stomach it. It’d be sad if this whole ordeal weren’t over _mayonnaise_.

Nope. It was still funny because the high and mighty Sanzo was actually a little pathetic and Gojyo loved it.

“Fuck’s sake, dude, just eat.” Gojyo gestured at the Salisbury steak Sanzo was glowering at, as if it had gotten the jar stuck.

“Fuck you,” Sanzo snapped back, and Gojyo glanced to see he still had the jar in his lap. “I will eat when I want to.”

Gojyo tried to withhold another mad grin. “So you’d actually rather starve than eat without mayo?”

Sanzo didn’t answer, scowling at the jar. Finally, he grumbled, “We take what little pleasures in life we can.” Then, he shot the same narrow, angry look to Gojyo. “Now fuck off.”

Gojyo held his hands up in surrender as he finished his portion and rose, but patted Goku on the back as he passed behind him. “Looks like it’s seconds for you again tonight!”

Goku snorted. “Y'know, I shouldn’t be enjoying this, but weirdly enough, I kinda am.” Gojyo chuckled and passed him by, going for the dish bin as Sanzo continued to battle with the jar and he continued to try not to laugh.

“Gojyo.” Hakkai’s grip on his shoulder jolted him out of any humor he might have been enjoying, his voice that blank, forced cheerful tone that told Gojyo he meant the exact opposite of kindness, and when Gojyo turned to glance over his shoulder, it was to see him donning the smile he put on before he started murdering things. “Do you recall when we first started to live together and I noticed you put the lids on our jars and bottles especially tight? A, as you said, bad habit from when you and Banri lived together and he would steal your half-finished sodas and beer?”

Gojyo didn’t have an answer, and left his grin frozen in place as he tried not to look guilty. He knew he was failing, but damn if he wouldn’t try. Hakkai’s blunt nails dug in on the gap between his shoulderbone and collar for a moment, then released to pat the skin. “Perhaps you may wish to speak with Sanzo and see if you can’t get him to loosen up.”

Hakkai was gone before the ache from the pressure point grab was, rejoining the others at the fire, though still expectantly watching Gojyo from across the dim campsite. Gojyo swallowed, then sighed. Hakkai was right. He’d had his fun.

He tromped across the dirt over to where Sanzo stood and held his hand out. “Gimme the jar. I’ll open it.”

“Fuck off, I don’t want your–”

“I ain’t helping you. I’m the one who tightened it, so I should be the one to fix it.”

Goku gasped, then “oohed” into cupped hands and sat forward to watch. Sanzo’s eyes widened, and his nostrils flared. Without saying a word, he held the jar up to Gojyo, and Gojyo took it in hand and twisted the lid. “It seemed like it’d be a good idea when I was drunk and pissed and you shot at me a whole bunch.” He gave it another twist. The plastic just budged, so he tried again. “But I got the fun I was gonna have out of it, I guess it’s time you got to have the thing you like back.” He cranked the lid again. Damn, it was on there good. Sanzo was getting over his shock and starting to tense and turn red. “So, uh, I’m sorry I let it go on this long–” The lid wasn’t turning– “And I won’t do it again–” Oh crap, Sanzo was absolutely purple and Goku was trying not to laugh and Hakkai was covering his face and definitely not hiding a smirk and the lid wasn’t moving– “And, uh, hey, Hakkai.” He held the jar up. “You said warm running water would loosen this sumbitch?”

CRACK! Sanzo had whipped his pistol out and fired a shot straight through the jar, making the entire thing shatter and splattering creamy mayonnaise all over Gojyo and the entire camp site (but mostly Gojyo). Egg all over his face… not to mention his jacket and pants. Gojyo blinked a few times, then laughed until his sides hurt. Goku cackled, and even Hakkai had to smother a snicker, as Sanzo stormed off swearing about “idiot drunk kappas” and how someone owed him a new jar.

It might have been a good idea. If nothing else, someone got a little more joy out of this life than they otherwise might have.


End file.
